Put The Sepia On Read Free Page B

good-natured grin that’s scarier than all of the weapons in the room, except maybe for the box of grinder-grenades (bombs that release dozens of rotating and rusty drill-bits upon detonation) sitting on a nearby shelf.
    “So you’re opening a museum?” I ask because he’s waiting for me to ask something.
    “No, my old friend. We are tired of being fed table scraps. We are tired of being- pardon the pun- the underdog. We are tired of the Corporation.” He was a pompous sonofabitch, but he wasn’t necessarily wrong; the Corporation had been using the Dogs as, well, dogs, for decades. First class muscle, third class citizens. But…
    “There’s a lot of ground to cover between here and the capitol buildings,” I point out. Lime shrugs, the way he might if his afternoon drink only had three ice cubes instead of four.
    “Sure. And the people, they’re as oppressed as we are. They’ll fall in, marching b ehind us, a million tallies in the profit margin becoming a million patriots. Think of it as a revolution, if you will.”
    “With you sitting on top of the hill at the end, naturally.”
    He nods. “Naturally.”
    “Why tell me?” he might just be bragging. But he’s too smart for that. He walks up to me and pats me on the back, like we’re pals. I’ll try explaining that to the bruise his paw left; you don’t need to ache, buddy, it was a friendly smack.
    “Because, my dear detective, I want your help.”
    “Come again?”
    He clasps his giant hands behind his giant suit and strides away, musing. “Is it really so hard to fathom? You hate the Corporation- so do I. Our old enmity, if you choose to see it as that, which I don’t, for the record - more like a friendly game of one-upsmanship - but whatever it was, it hardly matters now, does it? It was all at the instruction of the Corporation, no?” He turns back and grins at us. “It’s not so bizarre; and you wouldn’t be the only man on the winning team, of course. After all, Robbie here sees it our way, don’t you Robbie?”
    Robert’s too scared to speak, but he nods, and it looks like he means it. The Dogs are selling freedom, and t hat sounds ok as long as you don’t mind the tax. Being a former government employee, though, I hate me some taxes.
    “No soap, Lime. I don’t like the Corporation, sure, but at least I know how they operate. I can live in their world , and be left more or less alone. Yours? You’d have a knife in my back before the dust settled.”
    Lime shrugs amiably.”Technically, I could quite easily put one in you now. There’s no need for this posturing, my old friend; once the dust settles there’d be no reason for us to be at each other’s throats ever again. I’ll be in charge, you’ll be rich, and… well, does there really need to be anything beyond that?”
    I say nothing, but I must be thinking it pretty loud because he gets that gleam in his eyes again and…
    “Ah, her?” He pauses for effect, or maybe just to try and read my face. I’m guessing its light enough reading - like an obituary. He waves one of his big mitts, dismissing the issue. “Well, you can have her. Total clemency, for both of you. Free reign in a brave new world.” When I don’t say anything to that, he continues, “Don’t be so skeptical; I’m greedy, not petty, you know.” Robert almost works up the sack to ask me who the “she” is. Almost.
    I take a long look at Lime before I speak. I think he’s on the level with this; he’s played dirty before, but never cheap. And using her to get to me would be beneath him, although it would probably have worked if it weren’t, once upon a time. But times change, and while I can still remember how she looks and smells and sounds and tastes, I also remember how she plays. Put it this way; if I’m on the level, Lime’s under the table, and she’s poking around the basement. No sale.
    “Lime, I’m not your friend, and I’m not here for your revolution, or your money, or her. I’m